


for once you let go

by blamefincham, thistidalwave



Series: Gifted Camp 'verse [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12826320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blamefincham/pseuds/blamefincham, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/pseuds/thistidalwave
Summary: “Rude,” Mitch complains. “What’s your Gift, anyway? Were you gonna sprout wings or something if I got that necklace off?”Auston’s jaw drops a little. “You’rerude,” he corrects. “You can’t just ask that.”“Is it embarrassing?” Mitch says, unaffected.“It’s none of your business,” Auston says, firm.[Set in our Gifted verse, but can be read as a standalone.]





	for once you let go

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in our Gifted verse--if you haven't read the previous ones, all you need to know is that some people have magic powers which tend to manifest around the age of 14, and silver stops the powers from working (if you're wearing it, you can't use your Gift and no one can use theirs on you) and is therefore mandated for participation in organized sports. Other than that, these two are the same dumb idiots they always are.
> 
> Title from TSwift's "You Are In Love" (long may she reign).

It’s maybe dumb to be nervous at training camp. It’s not like it’s Auston’s first one—not even his first professional one—but this is the _NHL_ , and no matter how calm he is in front of the cameras, the little kid inside of him is freaking the hell out. 

He spends the morning waiting for the other shoe to drop, to embarrass himself in front of his new teammates or something so they stop looking at him like they’re trying to figure him out. Maybe that’s what makes him misjudge a pass from Mitch during a shooting drill, sending his one-timer wide of the net and into the glass _hard_.

The glass shatters, and Auston freezes for just a second. It’s the instinctive response of a kid breaking a window when shooting pucks on the driveway—not that he ever did that (okay, twice). Then Mitch whoops in celebration, a couple guys bang their sticks on the ice, and Auston unfreezes. 

This is the NHL, not his driveway. He’s not in trouble. The other guys are applauding—so he raises a hand like a king thanking his adoring public, and Mitch skates by him, laughing. “First he’s breaking the glass, next he’ll be breaking hearts,” he chirps.

“Guess this is one way to break into the NHL, huh,” Auston responds. 

Mitch groans and starts laughing. “You always tell brutal dad jokes, Matthews?”

“Why, you want me to take a break?” Auston fires back, and Mitch groans even louder. 

Aside from the time it takes to clean up the glass, practice goes pretty fast after that. He gets a few more chirps about it from the other guys—at least until Mitch starts actually _dancing_ as he’s getting undressed, what the hell, Auston doesn’t even remember guys doing that in Pee-Wee. Mitch takes the chirping in stride and doesn’t let it stop him, and Auston can respect that.

Auston looks away from the scene in the middle of the dressing room and bends down to start untying his skates. He’s only got one off when someone drops onto the bench next to him and slings an arm around his shoulders. 

He looks up, and it’s Mitch. Of course it is. Just like every time someone touches him out of hockey pads, Auston glances down at Mitch’s neck—and he’s removed his silver, so Auston checks his own. It’s there, so his Gift can’t affect Mitch. He’s good.

If Mitch notices anything weird about that, he doesn’t mention it. Instead he says, “You cut it kind of close this morning.”

Auston shrugs. He’d left himself enough time that he hadn’t been late, but Mitch is right, it had been a near thing. “Got a little turned around.”

Predictably, Mitch cracks up. “Oh man, of course you did. Welcome to the six,” he chirps, squeezing Auston’s shoulders. “Do you need me to drive you in tomorrow?”

“I’ll just pay better attention to my GPS,” Auston says, shrugging Mitch off and bending down to work on his other skate. 

“Yeah, but you’re close by, and I want that sweet, sweet carpool lane,” Mitch cajoles.

Auston straightens up and raises an eyebrow at him. “So it’s that kind of favor, huh? Where it’s really a favor for you?” 

Mitch claps a hand over his heart and feigns being shot. “Stone Cold Auston Matthews!” he says dramatically. A second later, he straightens up, smiling. “But yeah. So…”

“If I get to pick the music, deal,” Auston replies.

—

Auston only begins to regret his decision when he leaves his apartment in the morning and sees Mitch sitting in his car, absolutely rocking out like a total spaz. He _would_ be a morning person. Auston should’ve known.

Fortunately, Auston got Mitch to agree to let him control the music yesterday. The minute he gets in the car, before even buckling his seatbelt, he unplugs the aux cable.

Mitch freezes mid-dance move. “Hey!” 

“Hey,” Auston replies, sanguine. 

“Good morning to you too, asshole,” Mitch says, rolling his eyes. Auston buckles up, plugs the aux cord into his phone, and hits play on a Spotify playlist called ‘jams’ that he definitely didn’t make explicitly for this car ride, because that would be weird. 

“Don’t call me names, I’m saving you from that annoying banjo-y whining you call music,” Auston says.

“Wow, okay, _Grandpa_ , I’ll get off your lawn,” Mitch says, finally putting the car in reverse but also holding up a hand in innocence at the same time as he backs it out of its parking space. It occurs to Auston that Mitch might also be a bad driver, and potentially this was not his best idea. 

A quiet falls over them for a minute, as Mitch navigates the parking lot with some measure of care, but as soon as they’re on the road Mitch starts chirping again. “This is way too chill of a playlist for this early in the morning. Like, I feel like I’m gonna fall back to sleep.”

“Yep,” Auston replies, already leaning his head against the window.

“Wh—oh no you don’t,” Mitch says, leaning over to yank the aux cord out of Auston’s phone.

“Hey!” Auston protests, grabbing for it. Mitch is trying to keep the end out of Auston’s reach and drive at the same time and is frankly doing a bad job of both. Auston snatches it back and plugs it into his phone again. “You said I could control the music.”

Mitch leans over and yanks it out again. “I say a lot of things,” he chirps, unplugging the cord fully from the stereo this time. Auston would not be surprised if he tossed it out the window to make a point. 

“C’mon, Mitch,” Auston tries, holding out his hand. Mitch continues to drive, holding the cord in his left hand above his head, but Auston waits, not moving when Mitch glances at him once, twice. 

Finally Mitch sighs, long-suffering, and drops the cord into Auston’s hand. “Fine, if you wanna give me chirping material about your bad taste in music, I guess go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Auston says. He plugs the cord back in and hits play again. 

It’s quiet for longer this time—like, Auston actually gets to listen to an entire song without interruption. He looks out the window, trying to get his bearings a little. Seconds later, the stereo cuts out again, and when he whips back around, the aux cord is dangling free from the radio, and Mitch is giggling.

“You gotta keep your head up,” Mitch chirps cheerfully, delighted by his own dumb antics. 

Logically, Auston knows he should be irritated. It wasn’t that funny to begin with, and Mitch has dragged the joke out way too far. But when he looks at Mitch, who is _still_ giggling, all Auston feels is fond. 

It’s right about then that Auston realizes he has a big dumb crush on his teammate. 

—

The whole crush situation only gets worse as they get further into the season and end up spending more time with each other on the road and at each other’s places. Sometimes Auston spends entire drives to the rink watching Mitch and seeing how many times he can get him to laugh. It’s objectively an awful idea, but Auston can’t seem to stop himself.

Auston has half a mind to try to cut down on his Mitch exposure, since he’s not planning on making a move and the whole crush thing is kind of inconvenient, but then Mitch goes and invites him hiking so they can get to know each other “some place that isn’t the rink or this car,” as Mitch puts it. He looks so hopeful that Auston can’t possibly say no, even though going hiking in October in this climate seems like an absurd thing to do. 

“This is going to be great,” Mitch enthuses when he picks Auston up. It’s a godforsaken time of the morning on one of their days off, Auston is still half-asleep, and it’s _cold_ outside. He has a crush on a goddamn crazy person. “I brought you coffee,” Mitch adds, handing Auston a travel mug. Auston makes an incoherent noise of gratitude and takes that last thought back.

“Thanks,” he says, sliding the lid open and taking a sip. It’s perfect, because of course it is.

It doesn’t take too long to get to the park, which is a shame because it means Auston can’t go back to sleep in the car. He does his best to prepare himself, but it still sucks to get out of the warm vehicle. He adjusts his gloves as he follows Mitch toward the trail they’re taking. “Why are we doing this again?” he asks, mostly because he can’t let this shit stand without complaining a little bit.

“There’s a great view of the river valley from this trail,” Mitch says. “It’s gorgeous, especially in the fall. I thought you’d like it.” 

“Maybe if it wasn’t so cold,” Auston grumbles, trying to ignore the way his heart flutters at the thought of Mitch planning this. 

“Don’t be such a wuss, desert boy,” Mitch says. “And cover your ears with your hat, for fuck’s sake.” 

Auston rolls his eyes, but he does tug his hat down. 

The hike isn’t too difficult, but it takes enough effort that Auston isn’t too worried about being cold after the first few minutes. He follows in Mitch’s footsteps, since he’s done this before, and realizes that Mitch is wearing literal hiking boots. What a fucking nerd.

“I came to this park on a school trip once,” Mitch says into the quiet after a bit. “We did a nature walk on one of the easy trails, and a Gifted kid in my class started a forest fire.” 

Auston nearly trips over a rock. “A kid did _what_?” 

“Okay, so it wasn’t, like, a _huge_ forest fire. They got it under control when it was still pretty small,” Mitch says. “She felt really bad about it, obviously. We’d only just turned fourteen, so she didn’t have the best grasp on the Gift thing yet.” 

Auston nods and resists the urge to double check that he’s still wearing his silver necklace. His Gift isn’t exactly going to set the forest on fire, but he envies anyone that can actually control their Gift.

“That’s the good thing about Gifted Camp. At least, it helped me a lot.” Like Mitch, apparently. Auston hadn’t known that he was Gifted too. “Also, there are a lot of great prank uses for being able to set localized fires, so me and that girl were, like, best friends for a while there.” 

“I bet,” Auston says. “That sounds cool.” He means it; he and his parents were always too busy hiding his Gift to send him to a Gifted Camp, so he spent his summers focusing on sports instead. He’s not about to regret that, exactly, but the stories he hears about camp in passing are always good.

“Did you go to summer camp?” Mitch asks.

“Ah, not really, just hockey camp,” Auston says quickly. 

Mitch laughs. “Of course,” he says. “Boring as hell.”

“Shut up,” Auston says. Mitch just laughs harder, which isn’t a disagreeable result.

It’s only another minute of hiking to get to the viewpoint. Mitch stops and makes a dramatic, sweeping gesture for Auston to go ahead of him. Auston rolls his eyes at him as he steps onto the wooden platform, but when he looks out over the edge, he has to admit that Mitch wasn’t kidding. The river valley is laid out in all its glory, a splendor of colorful autumn leaves that stretches all the way to the horizon.

“Pretty cool, right?” Mitch asks, coming up beside Auston and leaning on the railing. 

“Yeah,” Auston agrees. “It’s crazy that there are this many trees in the middle of the city.” 

Mitch nods. “Bet they don’t make ‘em like this in Arizona,” he teases.

“We’re more about pretty rocks and warmth, it’s true,” Auston says. “This only looks sick in fall, though, and the Grand Canyon is awesome year-round, so really…”

“I could push you over this railing, and they’d never find you,” Mitch threatens. His huge grin ruins the effect entirely, and Auston has to force himself to look away.

“I can _see_ the ground,” Auston says. “There are stairs to get down there.”

“Never,” Mitch repeats.

—

Going hiking with Mitch is hardly rock bottom for Auston’s stupid crush. Over the next few weeks, Auston develops a seriously bad habit of always saying yes to whatever Mitch wants. By the time it’s edging into November, he’s not even sure there _is_ a bottom anymore; he’s just going to perpetually fall deeper and deeper into his feelings. 

Mitch is just too easy to like. Auston is constantly in awe of his positive attitude about everything—to the point where he starts to worry that maybe he's the reason for it.

It would sound absurd to anyone else, but Auston lives in constant fear of his Gift. When it first manifested, he was eight, six years too young for a Gift. They weren't sure what it was for a while, but then a stranger brushed up against him in the mall and felt so indescribably happy that they followed Auston and his parents, begging to touch Auston again. His parents bought him silver then and there, but word got out about his Gift, and they ended up having to move because of it. Auston hasn't told anyone about his Gift if he can help it since.

Mitch's unending happiness reminds Auston a little of how his parents described touching Auston back when they were trying to figure out if Auston could control it. His anxiety spikes whenever Mitch smiles at him, and when Mitch gets him singing Bon Jovi on the bench, Auston has to sternly remind himself that there's no way. They're both wearing silver. It’s not possible.

It's not until after their next game that Auston's worries come flooding to the surface with a vengeance. The Kings shut them out 7-0 at home, and the locker room is understandably dismal afterward as they all silently kick their own asses for that shitty performance. 

Mitch is quiet as well, keeping his responses to questions from beat reporters uncharacteristically short. He sits down next to Auston after he's showered and changed into street clothes. He sighs before bumping Auston's shoulder with his own.

"No use crying over blowout losses," he says. "We’ve just gotta kick their asses next time, eh?" He flashes a bright smile, and Auston stares.

The place on Auston’s shoulder where Mitch’s skin touched his practically burns. He’s still wearing his silver, but Mitch’s words sounded ten times more genuine than the similar things he said to reporters, and that’s… Auston is having trouble convincing himself that doesn’t mean something, and it’s terrifying.

“Right,” he says weakly. Mitch is still smiling at him.

What the _fuck_. 

—

Auston mostly manages to talk himself down after getting a good night's sleep. This irrational fear isn't anything new for him, after all, and he’s never known Mitch to dwell on things anyway. 

Except then Mitch _keeps_ being Mr. Sunshine. Auston goes over to his place to hang out after practice the next day, and even though they were practically bag skated, Mitch dances around his apartment and hums to himself as he's cleaning up the living room so they have room to play video games. Auston rarely sees Mitch without a smile plastered on his face no matter where they are, and when their plane home from Pittsburgh after losing again gets stuck on the runway because of bad weather, Mitch doesn't even kind of grumble.

“I feel bad for the people out there with the signal flags and shit,” Mitch says, peering through the plane window. He turns back to Auston and smiles wryly. “If we have to wait so that they don’t freeze to death, fair trade off.”

“You don’t have a Gift that makes silver not work on you, right?” Auston blurts out. The question has been at the front of his mind all week, and he can’t take it anymore.

Mitch looks at him like he’s gone insane, and Auston can’t even blame him. “Of course I don’t. You know how rare that is, right?”

Auston _does_ know that; it’s what he’s been telling himself. He even Googled the likelihood, and it’s less common than dying from a lightning strike. He shrugs.

“I obviously wouldn’t be allowed to play hockey if I did,” Mitch points out. “Competitive sports, hello? Why would you even think that?” 

“No reason,” Auston says quickly. 

Mitch narrows his eyes. “That’s a weird question to ask for no reason, Matts,” he says mildly.

“It’s nothing, honestly,” Auston says. “Just ignore me, I’m an idiot.”

Mitch snorts. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Auston makes a noise of protest and elbows Mitch in the side, provoking a stupid wrestling match that has Willy leaning over the back of their seats to tell them to knock it off. Thankfully, Mitch doesn’t bring Auston’s question up again once they’ve settled, and Auston is left to silently continue his irrational panic in peace.

—

Even though Mitch told him it was impossible and gave some excellent reasons why, Auston still can’t help worrying that maybe, somehow, he’s using his Gift on Mitch without realizing it. Maybe powers can grow and change later in life, like allergies can. Mitch doesn’t wear silver half the time—maybe _Auston_ is the one whose gift has started ignoring silver, which is a terrifying thought.

The only thing for it would be to ask someone who knew Mitch before Auston did—so anyone from juniors, basically. He scrolls through his contacts for a minute, thinking, before he comes across Tkachuk’s number. Perfect. He’ll chirp Auston about it, sure, but he’ll also know, since he was Mitch’s liney and everything.

 **Auston:** hey

 **Chucky:** sup

 **Auston:** so, you know mitch

 **Chucky:** never heard of him

 **Auston:** ha ha

 **Auston:** this is kind of a weird question

 **Chucky:** you’re kind of a weird dude so that makes sense

 **Auston:**

**Auston:** has he always been like. super happy all the time?

 **Chucky:** you’re right, that is a weird question

 **Chucky:** i guess? 

**Auston:** k thanks

 **Chucky:** why?

 **Chucky:** matty?

 **Chucky:** wtf 

**Chucky:** you can’t just ask a guy a weird question out of the blue and not tell him why

 **Chucky:** that’s not bros

 **Chucky:** ????

—

Though Auston’s definitely going to have to explain that eventually, it does finally set his mind at ease. He stops constantly second-guessing Mitch’s reactions and starts letting his guard down.

Of course, that’s when he wakes up on a flight to a hand tucked under the collar of his t-shirt, tugging on his necklace a little. He stays still, opens his eyes, and—it’s Mitch, trying to undo his necklace. 

Auston pushes him. Hard. Hard enough that Mitch almost falls out of his seat and into the aisle. He’s cackling, but Auston’s heart in his throat and his hands are shaking as he feels for the clasp—good, it’s good, Mitch didn’t get it. 

“What the fuck were you doing?” Auston says, probably too loud. His pulse is still racing.

“I was trying to take your silver off so I could prank you, but you’re too on the ball for me,” Mitch says breezily, like it’s not a big deal.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Auston spits. “Don’t fucking do that.” He can feel his panic turning into anger fast, bubbling up like he’s not really in control of it. 

Mitch frowns. “It’s not a big deal, dude, it wasn’t gonna—”

“It _is_ a big deal. Fucking _don’t_ ,” Auston says, just barely keeping his voice down. He turns away from Mitch and digs his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to put his headphones in and sulk for the rest of the flight.

But then he glances up at Mitch, and Mitch looks—almost hurt. “Do you really think Gifted people are that bad? Jeez, Auston.”

He should probably just let Mitch think that’s what he thinks, but his big stupid crush won’t let him. Before he even thinks, he’s saying “No, idiot, _I’m_ Gifted.”

Immediately, he flushes bright red. Auston glances around to see if anybody heard—most of the guys near them are still sleeping or engaged in a card game, plus there’s the plane noise, so he’s probably fine, but—he hasn’t told anyone who wasn’t a medical professional since he was a kid.

When he looks back at Mitch, he’s grinning. “Dude!” Mitch says happily. “I didn’t know that! Gifted bros high five!” 

He raises his hand. Auston raises an eyebrow at it and says, “Shhh.” He still feels off-balance—he _never_ takes all his silver off, not even in the shower. 

Mitch rolls his eyes, lowers his hand, and punches Auston in the shoulder with it. “Rude,” he complains. “What’s your Gift, anyway? Were you gonna sprout wings or something if I got that necklace off?” 

Auston’s jaw drops a little. “ _You’re_ rude,” he corrects. “You can’t just ask that.”

“Is it embarrassing?” Mitch says, unaffected. 

“It’s none of your business,” Auston says, cold and firm. Even Mitch, who has never caught a hint in his life, drops it after that. 

—

Things aren’t exactly _tense_ with Mitch after that, but they’re a little weird. Auston elects to spend their next day off playing Call of Duty by himself because, if his teammates’ chirping is any indication, he needs the practice. When his apartment’s buzzer goes off, he jumps hard enough that he accidentally presses buttons on the controller, and his character unceremoniously dies. He makes a noise of disgust and drops the controller on the floor as he gets up to see who’s at the door.

Somehow Auston isn’t all that surprised to discover that it’s Mitch. He buzzes him up right away, because he’s pretty sure that whatever Mitch is going to say, Auston would prefer to have it said to his face.

Mitch smiles at Auston when he answers the door, but it’s a more reserved smile than Auston is used to seeing. “Hey,” he says. “You busy?”

Auston shrugs. Crush or no crush, he can hold a grudge with the best of them, and he still feels a little rattled when he thinks of waking up to Mitch’s hands on his necklace. That is _not_ the way Auston wants Mitch’s hands near him. “What’s up?” 

“Look, I want to apologize,” Mitch says. “I was a total dick, absolutely stupid and inappropriate. You have a right to personal space and privacy, and I’m really sorry.”

Auston nods. “Thanks,” he says. Mitch seeming genuinely apologetic is enough to make him drop his guard almost entirely. He can’t stay mad in the face of Mitch’s remorseful expression.

“And I was wondering if you’d let me make it up to you?” Mitch asks, looking hopeful. 

“Okay?” Auston says cautiously. 

Mitch looks startled at that. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Auston repeats.

Mitch opens his mouth, then closes it. There’s an awkward silence for a moment before he finally says, “Cool. Come down to my car with me?” 

“Uh… let me get my coat,” Auston says. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see,” Mitch says. He grins wide, radiating happiness in that way that still unsettles Auston a little bit every single time.

Mitch’s way of making it up to Auston turns out to be taking him to play indoor, glow-in-the-dark mini golf. Auston’s skepticism when faced with the bright colors and loud noise of the golf course and arcade mix must show on his face when they walk in, because Mitch immediately bumps their shoulders together and says, “It’s awesome, Matts, seriously.”

“We’ll see,” Auston says, 

By the time they get to the third hole, Auston is fully warmed up to the entire thing. The place is, in fact, kind of awesome, and it doesn’t hurt at all that he’s winning.

“Is that a smile I see?” Mitch asks as they’re walking. “Are you having fun?” 

“Yeah, I’m having fun beating you,” Auston says with as much smugness as he can muster. 

“Oooh, you better watch yourself,” Mitch says. “I was going easy on you, but I’m not gonna let up now.”

Auston snorts and gestures to the next hole. “Bring it.”

“Loser buys ice cream after the game?” Mitch asks as he lines up his golf ball.

“We do have diets to stick to, you know,” Auston points out.

Mitch turns and fixes him with a look. “It’s _ice cream_ ,” he says.

Auston rolls his eyes. “Fine, deal,” he agrees. Mitch turns back to the golf course, satisfied.

They chirp each other throughout the rest of their game, the give-and-take of banter as easy as ever. Auston feels himself flirting a little bit, standing closer to Mitch than he needs to sometimes, but he can’t help it, and Mitch doesn’t seem to mind. 

In the end, Auston wins their bet, but Mitch puts up enough of a fight that it’s only by the skin of Auston’s teeth. Nevertheless, he takes great pleasure in dramatically considering the menu at the ice cream place while Mitch pouts at him. Mitch’s pout is _very_ cute.

“Chocolate syrup?” Auston contemplates aloud. “Oooh, triple scoop? Or maybe a sundae… Should I just get two things? You can foot that bill, right, Marns?” 

Mitch groans. “You didn’t even _want_ ice cream,” he complains.

“Yeah, but now it’ll taste like victory,” Auston says. 

“You’re such a fucking loser,” Mitch says, but he’s smiling.

Auston eventually goes with a classic cone of chocolate ice cream, but Mitch gets a dish of some outlandish bright blue cotton candy thing that makes Auston feel both unspeakably appalled and stupidly fond. 

“That looks like a toothache waiting to happen,” Auston says when they’re sitting down at a table.

Mitch stretches his feet out under the table and shrugs at Auston. “It looks delicious,” he corrects. He sticks a huge spoonful of the ice cream in his mouth like he’s trying to prove a point. Auston shakes his head and gets started on his own ice cream at a more moderate pace—which is immediately proven to be a wise choice when Mitch gets a brain freeze and starts moaning in agony. 

“Idiot,” Auston scoffs.

“I’m dying and you don’t even show any sympathy,” Mitch complains. “Of course you don’t get brain freezes, you’re ice cold anyway.” 

They’re quiet after that for a few minutes before Mitch scrapes his spoon along the surface of his ice cream, looking thoughtful, and then says, “You know, this is kind of the color I was attempting to turn you on the plane. More of a Leafs shade, probably, but… it was gonna be pretty funny, you know?”

Auston raises his eyebrows at Mitch.

“That’s my Gift,” Mitch continues. “Changing the colors of things. Pretty boring.”

“Okay, cool,” Auston says. He takes a bite of the edge of his cone and pretends to ignore the way Mitch is looking at him expectantly. He lets the moment stretch out for a long time before he takes pity on Mitch. “Are you trying to get me to tell you my Gift right now?” 

Mitch shrugs. immediately looking more interested in his ice cream than Auston again. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he says. “Don’t worry, no pressure.” 

“Okay,” Auston says. He thinks that maybe, with anyone else, he would be annoyed that they’re pressing the issue, but the fact that Mitch even knows Auston is Gifted at all is evidence enough that Mitch is different. It only makes sense that Mitch would be curious, and he doesn’t seem inclined to ask again after being shot down, so Auston doesn’t mind as much.

“Hey,” Auston says, nudging at Mitch’s foot with his own. Mitch looks up, and Auston smiles at him. “Thanks for this. Really.” 

Auston doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing Mitch smile the way he does at that moment.

—

Things get back to normal pretty quickly after that, which is good, because the Epix guys that are hanging around want some footage of the rookies away from the rink. Auston, Mitch, Willy, and Zach end up at the Christmas market, which sounds fun, except for how they’ll have to pretend there aren’t cameras in their faces the whole time. 

And also the fact that it’s _outside_ and _cold_ , which Auston probably should have expected. He’s bundled up in a jacket, a hat, a puffy vest, and gloves, the combination of which looks extremely stupid and also doesn’t even help.

“Probably should have gone with real gloves instead of cool fingerless ones, Arizona boy,” Mitch chirps. He has a point, but Auston just shoves his hands deeper into his pockets and shrugs. 

“If only I had a fire Gift, like that girl I went to school with, I could warm you right up,” Mitch continues, rubbing his hands together for effect. He’s not wearing gloves and he seems perfectly fine, which Auston thinks is seriously unfair.

“I wouldn’t trust you not to burn my eyebrows off,” Auston quips back, and Mitch clutches at his heart like he’s been shot. 

The good thing about being on camera with Willy is he’s constantly mugging for it, which means Auston and Mitch get to fade into the background a little bit. Mitch buys Auston a hot chocolate, which does a fairly good job of keeping his hands warm as long as he’s holding it, and they peruse some of the shopping stalls together. 

“I dunno, I just don’t think this sweater is ugly enough,” Mitch says, holding up a monstrosity of teal and fuschia yarn to his chest. 

“Yeah, the sweater’s not the problem, bud,” Auston chirps.

Mitch cocks his head at him. “I can’t tell if you’re calling me ugly or cute.” 

Auston… isn’t sure what he intended, so he gives Mitch a mysterious smile and turns away. Then he spots a sweater that actually lights up and flashes. “Oh my god, look at that one,” he says, bumping his hip into Mitch’s to draw his attention. 

Mitch grins, but his expression shifts a second later. “Dude, that’s like, for a chihuahua or something, what the hell?”

“Yeah, it looks like your size all right,” Auston says. Mitch shoves him so hard he almost drops his cocoa. 

They don’t actually find anything ugly or hilarious enough to buy, and then Willy spots the ferris wheel and drags them toward it. “That doesn’t look terrifying at all,” Auston observes, watching the thing spin considerably faster than it should be able to.

“Nope,” Mitch agrees cheerfully. 

They bundle into a carriage together, which Auston is immensely grateful for, because he can hear Zach yelling at Willy for rocking theirs, and Auston isn’t, like, great with heights. Mitch is excited by the view, but at least he isn’t moving much except to dig out his phone and film for his insta story.

“You’re gonna drop your phone, and it’s gonna break into a million pieces, and I’m gonna laugh my ass off,” Auston tells him. 

“Is that your way of saying ‘pay attention to me instead of the phone, Mitchy?’” Mitch coos at him. Auston rolls his eyes, but like—yeah, a little bit. 

The ferris wheel also has the side effect of chilling Auston to the bone; he’s legitimately shivering when they get off. “Oh my god, you big baby,” Mitch says, rolling his eyes. Then he reaches up and tugs Auston’s hood back into place over his baseball cap. 

It’s like—dumb, the whole thing is dumb, from Auston’s outfit to the temperature to the look on Mitch’s face, but for some reason, Auston starts blushing anyway. At least he can blame it on the cold. 

By the time the camera guys pack it in, it’s starting to get dark and even colder, but Auston doesn’t really want to go home yet. He turns to Mitch after they’ve said goodbye to the other guys, wondering if there’s a way to delay Mitch from begging off as well. He’s saved by Mitch asking, “Wanna come over and play video games for a while?”

Auston smiles at him. “Sure,” he says, like Mitch didn’t just read his actual mind. 

—

Auston wakes up early the next morning even though he definitely stayed out at Mitch’s too late. He kept thinking he should leave, but Mitch was sitting close to him on the couch and every time Auston inevitably lost, he started a new game before Auston could say anything. Eventually, Auston tried to ragequit and jokingly storm off, but Mitch grabbed his wrist and told him they could play something else, and Auston was helpless to resist.

It’s the feeling of Mitch’s fingers on his wrist and the earnest look on his face that Auston is thinking about as he stares up at the ceiling. Video games were a totally bros activity, but Auston can’t deny that it felt distinctly _un_ -bros, and not just in a wishful thinking kind of way. 

Mitch is a cuddly person, of course, but the more Auston thinks about it, the more he thinks it’s different when it comes to him. Like, maybe Mitch meant for that comment at the Christmas market about warming Auston up to be a come on. Maybe Mitch doesn’t make grand minigolf gestures for just anyone. Maybe he meant for hiking in the river valley to be romantic. Maybe even the offer to drive Auston to the rink all those months ago meant something more than just the carpool lane. 

It seems too good to be true, but… maybe Mitch is just happy around Auston because of _Auston_ , and Auston has just been too stuck in his own head to realize it.

There’s only one way to find out, Auston decides as he gets out of bed, and he’s not going to waste another minute.

When Mitch pulls up outside of Auston’s building, Auston is already standing outside. He gets in the car and hands Mitch a paper bag. “Morning,” he says.

“What’s this?” Mitch asks, already peering into the bag.

“Breakfast,” Auston says. “I know you like trying the specialty muffins from Tims, and they had a new one today, so…”

Mitch stares into the bag for a long moment, then looks up at Auston and smiles broadly. Auston’s heartbeat speeds up so much that he feels a little light-headed. “Thanks, Matty, that’s awesome,” Mitch says. 

“Just wanted to show my appreciation for you,” Auston says. 

“For me?” Mitch repeats dumbly.

Normally Auston would make a sarcastic joke because he’s trying to be chill, but today is not a normal day. “Yeah,” he says. “For you.” 

“Oh,” Mitch says. He sounds weird in a way that makes Auston think he’s definitely not the only one who can feel the loaded undertone of this objectively stupid conversation. 

Auston pointedly doesn’t look away from Mitch even as Mitch sets the bag down so he can start driving. He keeps glancing over at Auston, still smiling, and Auston smiles back. It’s intensely gratifying, even when Mitch insists on using both hands to unwrap the muffins while also changing lanes and Auston thinks they might die. At least they’d die together, Auston thinks, and then he has to look away for a moment because that was too sappy even for him to deal with.

All through practice, Auston lets himself do the things he usually stops short of—standing close to Mitch whenever possible, complimenting him when he does something even kind of good (which is all the time), leaning over to whisper jokes in his ear. Mitch reacts even better than Auston imagined; he clearly thrives on the attention, returning the gestures in kind and smiling all the while.

“Sick dangle, Matts,” Mitch says, stopping next to him after a drill and bumping Auston’s arm with his own. 

“Not as sick as your snapshot,” Auston replies, nudging Mitch’s arm back. 

“You two are extra gross today,” Willy remarks from a few feet away. “What gives?”

“Shut up,” Auston and Mitch say at the same time, and then they turn to each other and high-five. Willy makes a noise of disgust and skates away. 

Practice is too short for Auston’s liking, and he’s nervous as hell for the entire drive back to his apartment. Even though he’s almost entirely sure Mitch was flirting back, taking the next step and actually talking about it is daunting. 

“Here we are,” Mitch says as he pulls into the parking lot.

“Yeah, uh,” Auston says. “I really… I mean… um, do you want to come in?” 

“I’m not that kind of girl, Matts,” Mitch says, grinning. “You gotta at least buy me dinner first.” 

Auston would usually laugh it off, but—”I’ll order you dinner later, how about that?” 

Mitch looks at him, appraising, and then unbuckles his seatbelt. “Deal.” 

—

The elevator ride up to Auston’s apartment is really not long enough for Auston to figure out what he wants to say or put the words in any kind of coherent order. For once, though, Mitch seems to get that, and he doesn’t ask why Auston’s being weird today, just sits down on the couch and rambles on about some dumb story Mo told him even though it’s pretty apparent Auston isn’t listening. 

Finally, Mitch pauses, and Auston interrupts with, “I want to tell you about my Gift.” 

Mitch raises his eyebrows. “You know you don’t, like, have to, right? I was just being nosy when I asked?” 

“Yeah, but.” Auston shrugs. “I want you to know.”

“Sappy,” Mitch says, jostling Auston’s shoulders with his own. 

Auston smirks at him and then exhales, fiddling with his silver ring. “So...basically, my Gift is making people happy when I touch them. I know that doesn’t sound bad, but it presented crazy early, I was like eight, and when people found out it was like all these adults wanted this little kid to touch them? It got so bad we had to move.”

“Jesus,” Mitch says, serious. “That’s fucked up.” 

“Yeah,” Auston agrees. “That’s why I got so freaked out when you tried to take my silver off, because like, if people found out now…”

“You’d have to move to Australia, change your name to Mauston Atthews, and give up hockey forever,” Mitch says. He still sounds serious, but he’s grinning, and when Auston elbows him he starts laughing.

“You’re the worst,” Auston reminds him. “And like—remember when I asked you if your Gift made silver not work? I was worried because you’re so fucking happy all the time, that somehow…”

“Somehow you were constantly in control of my mood?” Mitch says, skeptical. “You’re not _that_ powerful that you could overcome your silver _and_ mine, Matts.”

Auston _knows_ that, but it still feels like a weight off his shoulders when Mitch dismisses the idea so plainly. He smiles at Mitch, and Mitch smiles back.

“Besides,” Mitch adds, leaning in close, “you don’t need a Gift to make me happy.” He says it all sugary-sweet and over the top, but Auston knows Mitch well enough to hear the thread of sincerity in it. 

Auston groans and shoves Mitch’s face away, but his smile completely ruins the effect. 

“Shut up, you love it, you love me,” Mitch says confidently, swatting Auston’s arm out of the way. “At practice today it was crazy; I think if you’d made one more flirty comment, the guys would’ve locked us in a closet or something.”

“Oh, are we talking about the flirting now?” Auston says, eyebrows raised, ignoring the explosion of butterflies in his stomach.

“Unless you got any other big secrets to drop, I think we might as well,” Mitch says, like it’s that easy.

“I’m good,” Auston says. 

“Cool, so, flirting: we’re doing it. I suggest we keep doing it, except with kissing.” Mitch honest to god waggles his eyebrows.

“Why do I _like you_ ,” Auston says, despairing, but he pulls Mitch in for a kiss anyway. 

Mitch kisses with all the enthusiasm Auston would have expected. The minute their lips touch, he moves in so close that he ends up in Auston's lap at a weird angle, which forces Auston to grip his hips tighter to stop him from falling off the couch. Mitch makes a noise of frustration into Auston's mouth, and he pulls away for a moment to readjust so that he's straddling Auston's thighs, his arms draped over Auston's shoulders.

Auston tries to follow Mitch with his mouth as he shifts. He’s not, like, proud of it, but now that he’s kissing Mitch, stopping seems extremely stupid. Mitch snickers at him, then presses their foreheads together as he leans in close again. 

"I dunno," Mitch says, "but I'm glad you finally admitted it." 

It's hard to kiss someone who won't stop smiling, but Auston is happy to keep giving it his best shot for as long as possible. He slides his hands underneath Mitch's shirt, and Mitch leans back to take it off entirely, dropping it on the floor behind him and reaching for Auston's shirt. Auston lets him tug it up and over his head, but then Mitch pulls away and starts to get up, which is just completely unacceptable. "No," Auston complains, trying to tug Mitch back, but Mitch stands firm.

"Don't you think we should move this to a bed?" he asks, offering Auston a hand up.

Auston makes an annoyed noise, but it's entirely for show, because he's already taking Mitch's hand and letting him lead him down the hallway. It's too far, though, and he pushes Mitch up against the wall just outside the bedroom door so that he can kiss him again sooner. Mitch doesn't protest, kissing Auston back hard and reaching for the fly of Auston's jeans.

"Clothes," he mumbles against Auston's mouth. "Stupid."

"Right," Auston agrees, fumbling to help Mitch get both their pants off. Halfway through, Mitch decides they should be in the bedroom and tries to walk Auston backward through the doorway, and they end up nearly falling over. Auston catches himself on the edge of Mitch's dresser and grabs Mitch's arm in time to stop him from tripping, and the ridiculousness of the entire situation—both of them with their pants around their ankles, trying to gain their balance—makes him burst into laughter.

"Fucking hell," Mitch swears, but he's laughing too. 

The laughter and near-injuries don’t kill the mood, but they do—temper it a little. Auston doesn’t feel like he’s drowning every second his mouth isn’t on Mitch’s any more; he wants this rather than _needing_ it. "Maybe one thing at a time, huh?" Auston suggests, dry. 

"Aw, but I want to do everything with you, baby," Mitch says, leaning against Auston and kissing behind his ear. 

Auston groans. "That was bad," he says even as he rests his hands on Mitch's hips and tilts his head to give Mitch better access. "I thought you promised me a bed." 

"You're the one who couldn't keep his hands off me," Mitch points out between kisses.

Auston tightens his grip on Mitch. "Am I supposed to apologize for that?" 

Mitch grins devilishly at him. "No."

Auston definitely does not keep his hands off of Mitch, and Mitch returns the favor, but the lessened urgency means they manage to get the rest of their clothes off without further incident. Mitch pushes Auston onto the bed and climbs up after him, then curls up alongside him. "I've pictured you just like this so many times," Mitch tells him before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Auston's lips.

Auston smiles dumbly at him when he leans back, and Mitch reaches for Auston's necklace, picking it up and twisting it in his fingers a little. Auston watches his fingers for a moment, then looks back at Mitch's face.

"Can I?" Mitch asks quietly, and Auston nods before he even really thinks about it.

Mitch undoes the necklace carefully and puts it on the bedside table before brushing his lips against where the necklace usually rests. Auston wordlessly offers Mitch his hand, and Mitch slides off Auston's silver ring, pressing a kiss to Auston's finger as well. As he does, Auston's body starts to glow dimly.

"Well, you look hot when you glow," Mitch says, running his fingers down Auston's side and smirking when Auston shivers involuntarily, "but I don't feel any different." 

Auston just looks at Mitch, overcome by disbelief at how lucky he is right now. He reaches for Mitch's hand and threads their fingers together, maintaining eye contact as he presses a kiss to the top of Mitch's hand.

A moment later, Mitch's hand glows brightly and Auston's skin turns Leafs blue.

"You _dick_!" Auston says over Mitch's cackling laughter. "We were having a romantic moment!"

"I feel plenty romantic," Mitch says, leaning down to kiss Auston again, and, well—

Yeah. This is romance with Mitch, and Auston wouldn't have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Join us on Twitter for [fun](http://twitter.com/thistidalwave) and [games.](http://twitter.com/ungilded)


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